Chapter 19 read by Matt



If you don't see the Media player above then click here to play in a separate window (or right-click and download)




-You’ve got to be out of your soul-stultifying mind.- Drew said.


-Nope.- Gregor said. -I’m out of my Otter Pop mind.-


Drew went back to Zandra.


-¿What does Madame Valda have that I don’t already have in my cassette player?-


-I dunno.- Gregor answered. -Give me a few minutes and I’ll think of a joke answer.-


-She doesn’t have nothing.- Kelsey exclaimed. -She doesn’t even have the soap God gave her to wash with.-


-¡Kelsey!- Drew said. -¡Enough already! ¡Wait! ¡That’s it! ¡The Crazy Cart! ¡It’s Madame Valda’s!-


A car could’ve hit Kelsey and she wouldn’t’ve moved. She pushed on the keys of a non-existent cash register.


-¡That makes sense! It’s Madame Valda’s.- Her words echoed in her ears. -¡It’s that!-


She ran to the Crazy Cart and started pouring milk over it until she saw the monstrous apparition of Gregor.


-I didn’t know you could saddle up one of these.- He said, grabbing the cart and looking at it like it was a van conversion.


-¿Why wouldn’t you know?- Drew exclaimed. -You have it in your slimy hands. And it’s Madame Valda’s.-


-Right, loser.- The old guy said, pronouncing every syllable. -But the book I read was in your eyes and when I pulled it out it was an article about pretending to already had being frightened by Bruce Andrews.-


-That may already have happened.- Kelsey said. -But we don’t have to pretend, we’re already frightened. And not by some hayseed named Andrews, but by the pernicious tentacles of Madame Valda. Except her tentacles have nails. And the book doesn’t talk to her, it talks to her nails. ¿Dint you know that?-


-¿Truthfully? No.- Gregor admitted, stroking the pages of the book. -Nope, I thought it talked to her onomatopoeia.-


-¡Then why the fuck are you slobbering all over me!- Drew exclaimed. -The book can’t help it if it can’t pronounce words.-


All the cigarettes applauded.



Kelsey looked for the Crazy Cart with her hands.


But someone had taken the Crazy Cart and thrown it where the sun don’t shine. And Kelsey wasn’t going to wait for the sun to start shining this time. She wasn’t going to let anyone shake a finger at her bad diction. This time she was confident.


-Get your ass to a hogeyery.- She told the old guy when he turned from the callous to the genteel.


Kelsey knew that it was air that made her heart pump. And it was air that made the sheep “bah”.


It was air that made fire warm and it was air that made the hills hilly. And now it was air that was making these young people take a step back from their lives and put a little distance between their selves and Kate Capshaw.


-Get her out of here.- They all murmured.


They’re all really brave when they’re slinging their arrows at the napes of necks. And also when they’re trying to put out fire with fire.


Beyond being brave, they’ve mired up their shirts in Red Dye #2. They tried to return it, but their legs wouldn’t move.


But before they couldn’t move, they couldn’t launch into their Fernando Llamas impressions.


Kelsey was turned to salt.


The lambs in the bluffs above them threw Cinnamon Crispas at their already sore shoulders.


-¿What the pasta?- Kelsey asked Gregor.


But he didn’t respond. Kelsey looked up and the old guy was Up With Lambs, throwing Cinnamon Crispas down on them.


“¿How on earth...?” She wondered. “The guy was just here retrofitting the circle of cigarettes, and ¿now he’s throwing lentils at us?


Kelsey swore vengeance on the lambs.


-¡You fucking ANIMALS!- She screamed. -When you get tired of throwing TV snacks at us you can do one thing: ¡You can go FUCK YOUR SELVES!-


-¡Surprise!- Drew said. -¡You are so tired! You were supposed to be here before they started showering shit on us.-


Kelsey could hear everything being said, but because she had been turned to salt, it all sounded like, “¡BUUUUUM!”


She still had a fire in her heart, it just smelled kinda salty, but... ¡Salt is supposed to be bad for you!


The girl was supposed to be handing out packets of grit.


But whenever she had some grit, all she heard was how horrible and how all-terrain vehicle it was.


And how it smelled like yesterday’s news.


And how it didn’t leave ring-around-the-collar, but instead, ruined your life.


And it all corresponded with the rise of depravity and satanicity that was Madame Valda.

    -- on to chapter 20   or   back to PUNK ASS --